Through the Looking Glass
by chiisana-ai
Summary: Magnus Martinsson's love life has been a mess for a while; since he left for Police College, actually, and now he's stuck trying to woo a former girlfriend into taking him back and trying to deal with the insanity that is being a policeman in Ystad. More BBC-verse than anything else, but will probably have bookverse bits later on. Martinsson x OC. Rating may change to M later on.
1. Chapter 1

Magnus Martinsson spent the better part of a Wednesday night at Kurt Wallander's apartment on Mariagatan getting drunk and lamenting the state of his love-life; Martinsson usually enjoyed being away from anything and anyone that had to do with work, but that night he had allowed Wallander to invite him over for a drink… Which then turned into eight or nine drinks, by which point both men had gotten drunk.

Although Martinsson had his own friends, they were all asleep by the time he got off work, and so his colleague Wallander seemed to be the only person still up and able to be spoken with. Wallander had told Martinsson he couldn't offer any advice, but he could listen, and that was all Martinsson really needed; someone to bitch to about his ex-girlfriend who he was trying to win back after a nearly ten-year separation. She had just moved to Ystad after living in Japan from when he left for Police College, and she worked at a bookshop next to the station and lived four houses to the right of Wallander on Mariagatan.

Nidavelle Hægison, a twenty-nine year old interpreter and translator worked in the bookshop next to the Ystad police station. She was the owner's only daughter, and she had been the policeman Martinsson's girlfriend for six years before he left for Police College and broke up with her. The day he left for Police College, she packed up and went to live with her mother in Japan for the next ten years, working as an interpreter and translator for her mother's company. She hadn't spoken to him until she came back to Sweden and ran into him in the bookshop; she was rearranging some shelves when he came up to her and tried to act as if he hadn't ripped her heart out by leaving her.

Around 1:00am, Martinsson left Wallander's apartment to go back to the station, get his car, and drive home; Nidavelle was coming home from the bookshop and spotted him walking up Mariagatan, obviously wasted, and walked down the street toward him. He almost fell off a curb and twisted his ankle, letting out a loud curse as she reached him.

"You, in my house, now." She said, looking up at him; Martinsson was about five inches taller than her.

"Oh, hello, Nida." He snarled. "Come to taunt me?"

"No, but you're standing in front of my house, you've just sprained your ankle, and you're not driving home." She sighed. "Come on, Mag. Don't make an ass of yourself."

"Have I not already?" He asked, laughing. "Last I heard, you thought I was one." He said. "I'm such an ass!" His voice echoed up and down the quiet street.

"Magnus!" She said in a scolding tone, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him up the driveway to her house. She took her keys out and opened the door, shoving him inside.

"Don't touch me." He growled as fell onto the couch and leaned over to try and take his shoes off.

"You're drunk; why are you drunk?" She watched him toss his shoes lazily toward the shoe stash by the door. "You're a policeman, you shouldn't be getting drunk."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that policemen weren't allowed to have a drink or two every now and then." Martinsson glared up at her.

"You've probably had like six or seven drinks, Magnus, and your job is to protect people! And there you were, trying to go back to the station to get your car and drive home, in which you would have endangered your life and possibly the lives of other people!" She said angrily. "Are you hungry?" She asked, suddenly calm.

"What?"

"I asked if you wanted any food, Mag."

"Are you going to poison it?" He asked, to which she responded by giving him an annoyed look. "I mean, you'd have a motive."

"I don't have a motive, but you're well on your way to giving me one." She snapped. "I'm going to make you a Panini, and you're going to eat it." She added, leaving for the kitchen.

"Is there a place I can take a shower?" He called after her.

"Not until after you eat!" She said back.

Martinsson lingered on the couch for a while, thinking over the last few minutes; one second he had been walking down Mariagatan to head to the station to get his car, the next he tripped over a curb and sprained his ankle, probably badly, and then he was sitting on his ex's couch while she made food for him. He sighed and reclined on the couch, turning on the TV and switching it to the news; there wasn't anything particularly interesting on that night apart from the story of a robbery they were investigating and a shooting in Stockholm.

While he was watching the news, Nida had finished making the panini and came back into the living room to give him the sandwich. Martinsson could smell the sandwich, and he looked over as she set it down on the coffee table. He suddenly felt like he was nineteen again, the scent of her signature sandwich bringing him back to when they were together and she'd always make lunch for him.

"If you don't eat it, it'll get cold. They don't taste _nearly_ as amazing when they're cold." She said, smiling a little when she noticed the small smile that had appeared on his face. "Go on." She said, leaving the room.

Martinsson took a second to get over his nostalgia before digging into the delicious sandwich; it tasted even better than he had remembered. He didn't take very long to finish it, despite trying to savor its flavor. After he was done, he found the kitchen and began to wash the dish. Nida came into the kitchen and look surprised to see him drying the dish.

"You didn't have to wash it." She said, laughing. "You wanted to take a shower?"

"Yes, please." He replied, putting the dish in the dish drainer and looking over his shoulder at her.

Half an hour later, after he had taken a shower, Nida vacated her bedroom so he could sleep there for the night. She had wrapped his ankle to help with the sprain and given him some ibuprofen to keep the pain and swelling down a little, and then she went to the couch to sleep.

Martinsson had a hard time falling asleep despite being extremely tired; he wondered how, after having completely burned the bridge between them, she could be so kind to him and take care of him. The effects of the alcohol had begun to wear off, and he was beginning to think like a civilized person again. She had absolutely no reason to be kind to him, no reason to let her into the house that night and take care of him in his drunken state, and he wondered why she had. He had broken her heart a decade earlier and been an ass to her on the street and seconds after being let into her home; _why did she do this for me?_


	2. Chapter 2

Martinsson woke up the next morning to the sound of Nida humming a Japanese song as she laid his clothes out on the bed. It was 6:30am. She had washed his clothes and ironed them, and she seemed surprised when Martinsson sat up. He had sat up too fast and his head began to pound, at which he let out a string of profanity.

"Good morning, Mag." She said, looking over at him as he rubbed his eyes. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Uh… Toast." He said, groaning as he tried to get out of the bed. "Remind me again how this all happened? My brain hurts too much."

"Well, I saw you walking up the street, I'm assuming you were leaving Wallander's, since he lives four houses down… You were _really_ drunk, and you tripped on the curb, and I felt bad, so I let you in… And then you swore at me and were being your usual mean self, but I made you a sandwich and you were happy about it. You took a shower, and then you went to sleep."

"Did I thank you?" She smiled a little and walked out of the room. "Nida!" He pushed himself out of the bed and followed her down the hall. "What the hell did I do? You never smile like that unless I do something stupid."

They reached the kitchen and he kept trying to ask her what it was he had done, or if he had even done anything, and she avoided answering him the whole time; she kept giggling and smiling as he grew ever-more frustrated with her for not answering him. Finally, as the toast popped out of the toaster, she answered him.

"You tried." She said, putting the toast on a plate and spreading some lingonberry jam on it.

"How?"

"You kissed me." She sucked some jam off her finger and looked up at him.

"Did I really?" She nodded. "No, I wouldn't do that."

"You were drunk, and we both know you would." She handed him the plate of toast. "Let me know if you want anything more." She left the kitchen after that.

He thought over that; she had absolutely no reason to lie to him, none at all, but he didn't remember kissing her at all. He knew he had been pretty messed up, but enough to forget that he kissed his ex-girlfriend? He wasn't sure, but she didn't seem upset by it so he wasn't too worried about it.

After he finished his toast, he washed the dish and the knife she had used to spread the jam and went to find her. He went to her bedroom and found her looking at an old photo album while snuggled up to the pillow he had been sleeping on. He recognized one of the photos immediately; it was the two of them and their families at Nida's older brother Diuri's wedding shortly before he left her. He was behind her with both arms wrapped around her and they were both making silly faces. She was holding his hands.

"That was a fun day." Martinsson said, sitting down on the bed next to her. "Do you remember what you said when your dad told us to stop being so stupid?"

"_I swear, if you two don't pull yourselves together, I will pull you apart_." She said, mimicking the face she was making in the picture when she looked over at him. "And later on, when he saw you grab my ass, he threatened to shoot you and you told him that he wouldn't because I'd shoot him."

"I honestly thought I was right."

"You were!" She laughed and curled up around him, resting her head in his lap. "If he did anything to you, I'd do something ten times worse. I love you, and I wouldn't ever want anything bad to happen to you." She said, drumming her fingers on his stomach.

"I still can't believe I kissed you…"

"Would you like me to jog your memory?"

"What?"

She moved her hands up and got them tangled in his messy, blond curls. The sensation was so familiar to Martinsson that, when she sat up, he instinctively leaned in to kiss her. She tugged at his hair and he let out an annoyed growl.

"You can't make me want to kiss you and then stop me from it."

"Uhm, yes I can." She rolled her eyes. "You need to start getting ready for work. As much as I would love to stay with you all day and make out, that's highly impractical. Also, you were kind of a dick to me and I'm still not over it."

"Not even just one kiss before I go?"

"Before you leave the house, sure; but not now." She fell onto her back and sighed. "Go get ready, Magnus."

"Are you seriously going to send me off with a kiss?"

"Unlike you, I don't say things I don't mean." She kicked him off the bed and giggled when he nearly tripped on his own two feet.

Twenty minutes later, they were at the front door and Martinsson was ready to go to work; or, rather, he was dragging his feet and dreading work but Nida was kicking him out so he had to leave.

"So, about that kiss…" He said, hesitating as she opened the front door.

She got on her tip toes and put her hands on his shoulders as she kissed him. They continued to kiss for a while, and eventually Martinsson began feeling her up and she once again tangled her hands in his hair. It took a while before either of them could find it in themselves to pull away, and Nida was the one who broke the snogging session.

"Okay, you have things to do and I've got a nap to take." She said, pushing him gently out the door. "If you get a break or something, feel free to stop by; I'm not at work today or tomorrow."

"Alright…" Martinsson looked over her for a moment, not wanting to leave; she was wearing a light purple, sheer nightgown, and he could see almost all of her underneath it with the sun shining on her. "Thanks for, you know, babysitting me."

"Anytime, Mag." She said, laughing and waving. "Go on, you'll be late if you don't start walking."

"Oh, yes, Mum." He rolled his eyes as she closed the door.

And then he was off to the station to start yet another boring day of being the lackey.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt Wallander shot a man, and as a result, he decided to take leave; this left Magnus Martinsson in charge of the cases that were brought in during the time. It seemed like he would actually have time to have a life outside of work, and he was able to leave before dinner time on most nights. He also felt better about himself now that he was in charge, and he was finally being treated as more than just a lackey; people were actually listening to him, and it felt great.

Martinsson was also having more fun outside of work; since he actually had time to do things like go on dates with Nida, they went out all the time. He'd even visit her at work sometimes, when she wasn't coming over to the station to drop lunch off for him and his colleagues.

Wallander decided to make a return after a year on leave, and the day he chose to come back was a day Martinsson and Nida had an anniversary to celebrate and had elaborate plans for the evening; naturally, this meant Martinsson would have to cancel his plans, as Wallander overrode his entire investigation and made everyone stay late to make up the difference.

Martinsson, after the case meeting in which Wallander invalidated his whole open-and-shut investigation and made it clear no one was going home until they figured out what was up with the broken kitchen chair, walked back into his office, slammed the door, and called Nida to inform her that the evening they had been planning for two months wasn't going to happen.

He tried several times to reach her, but she never picked up. He eventually gave up and figured she'd call him back. He asked Ebba, the receptionist, to put Nida through immediately if she called, and Ebba sympathized with Martinsson's anger regarding his meticulously planned anniversary dinner with Nida having to be pushed back out of nowhere.

Two hours later, Nida showed up at the station, not calling ahead of time to give anyone any notice, and she marched back to the conference room where Martinsson and the others, including Wallander, were in the middle of a meeting to discuss the non-existence progress they had made.

"Why would they want to murder Torstensson, though?" Anne-Britt sighed.

Peters opened the door and poked his head into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt, but there's a woman here demanding to speak with Martinsson, says it's important and that she'll have words with anyone who keeps her from him." Peters said, looking slightly nervous.

"Did you tell her we're in a case meeting?" Wallander asked, sounding annoyed and looking like he thought Peters was an idiot.

"Well, yes. Of course I did, and then she just gave me this look…"

"Shit…" Martinsson stood up. "Can I just have a minute?" He asked Wallander.

"No, no you may not. We're in the middle of a case meeting—"

"We've made no progress at all, there's no point to this damn meeting!" He cut Wallander off and sighed. "Look, just give me a minute. I'll be back after that, but I just have to deal with her."

"Ruined her evening?" Anne-Britt asked, looking at Martinsson. "What does that even mean?"

"… It's nothing." Martinsson growled, leaving the room without waiting for permission to leave.

"Didn't sound like nothing, the way Peters said it…" Anne-Britt murmured after he walked away and the door was shut.

Nida was sitting at Martinsson's desk, giving him a displeased look. He felt like a dog with its tail between its legs; nothing scared Magnus Martinsson quite like his girlfriend when she was angry. She didn't yell, or curse, she just smiled an obviously fake smile, one that you knew meant she had just murdered you fifty seven different ways in her mind.

"Nida, I'm so—"

"No, no. Don't apologize." Nida stood up. "Ebba told me Kurt is back and that your investigation about the old man who crashed his car is being called into question; I'm not mad at you, or him, really, but… Just call when you're on your way home, okay?"

"You're not mad?"

She did that little smile she always did when she was upset, and he felt like there was a dark cloud hanging over him; she might not have been angry, but she was definitely not alright with it, either.

"I'll see you at home…" She said, walking over to him.

"I'm really sorry, Nida…" He said.

She kissed him, smiled a little, and then walked away.

Martinsson, feeling far more guilt-ridden than he already did, thought for a second about how badly it would hurt to get run over by a car. He figured the feeling of being ran over by a car would be equivalent to the weight of his somewhat unnecessary guilt, and he figured he'd be miserable either way. He shook off his irritation and guilt and returned to the case meeting.

A few hours later, Martinsson came home and found Nida sleeping on the couch, the TV still on and set to the news channel.

He had only convinced her to move in with him a few weeks prior, and even then she had been reluctant and only gave in because she wanted him to stop pestering her about it. It ended up that neither of them was usually home when the other was, so it was almost the same as when they had been living in separate places. She still owned her house on Mariagatan, which she refused to sell because she was, admittedly and irrationally, worried he'd leave her again.

Martinsson looked over the coffee table and saw a bag from a nearby pharmacy, which included several filled prescriptions for all sorts of vitamins and a couple of medicines, though he wasn't entirely sure what they were so he left it alone for the night and went to his bedroom. He didn't bother waking Nida up, since she would probably be cranky and bitch at him about them not getting to have a proper anniversary.


End file.
